Live Fast
by Pyrrha615
Summary: Two opposing gangs, Gotei 13 and the Espadas, clash at a street race, this is the story of that night and the messy aftermath that followed.
1. Chapter 1

Live Fast – Chapter One

_So this is a new story I've started, Reading Racey's fic 'Dirty' (go read it it's awesome!) gave me a few ideas and this was born from that. Although as yet I don't think this will be a GrimmIchi fic, as for pairings the only one that's sure at the moment is IchiRuki, but things might change ._

The setting sun landed mini supernovas on the heavily tinted windows of a black corvette as it rolled into the large deserted car park. Bass bled from the interior, slow and deep and loudest at the boot. It came to a smooth halt on the dusty asphalt, the engine was cut but the music still played. Red flowing lines ran down one side of the car, originating from the same point near the front wheel arch but spreading out and widening as they approached the back of the car. The driver's door opened, stopping short of the white Audi TT parked next to it, allowing a tall man to get out of the vehicle. His spiky hair was an obnoxious shade of orange, strands angled in all directions. Light rimmed ray bans were perched on his angular nose, obscuring the eyes behind them with dark, retro style lenses, the white frames were coloured slightly by the deep orange sunlight.

A petite, dark haired woman walked up to him, holding a gently perspiring bottle of beer out, a familiar smile crossing her lips. Her summery dress fell about her thin knees, the full circle skirt moving slowly as she did. Large, dark eyes looked up at him, the smile hitting and brightening them. He slid the ray bans from his eyes, revealing honey irises sat under a permanent frown.

"Cheers Rukia" he leaned down to press his lips to hers, taking the cold bottle from her hand as he did so. The low bass of Lil Wayne's Lollipop eased from the large pair of subwoofers he had fitted into the boot of his Chevy the weekend before. He let the kiss deepen slightly, sliding his tongue across her soft lips, the artificial sweet of cherry lip balm hitting his taste buds.

"Can't you two get a fuckin' room or somethin'?" words spoken through an unmistakeable grin caught the attention of the couple. "Surely a room ain't outta yer price range Ichi?" mischievous eyes shone from under a straight cut blonde fringe, the rest ended at his shoulders in a neat bob. Ichigo could tell from the blonde's pupils that he was already faded, his eyelids were resting slightly lower than normal, blissfully relaxed.

"Very funny Shinji!" Ichigo took a long sip from the brown beer bottle, enjoying the cold semi-sting as the liquid moved down his throat.

"Ya racin' later?" Shinji spoke as Ichigo drank, holding a shot of something clear in his hand himself. Long, almost bony looking fingers curled around the small glass, nails immaculate and clean underneath. A heavy chain rested around the blonde's neck, the silver glinting in the fading sunlight, on it sat a small mask cast in the same metal, the odd elongated shape reminiscent of Mayan culture.

"'Course. You?" Ichigo gestured to Shinji's gold Maserati GranTurismo parked across the lot, the sun striking a bright glare off of the bonnet. Purple brake callipers and double purple stripes ran over the top of the car, setting the gold off to perfection. The vehicle was certainly recognisable and unforgettable.

"Nah, not this time, just had her re-painted from the last race" Shinji spoke quickly before downing the liquid in his glass, both of them silently thought back to the crash that had prematurely ended the last meet.

The blonde's eyes locked on to another car rolling into the lot, following it slowly as it drove towards them, knowing who it was before he could even see through the tinted windscreen. A bright red Ferrari moved in next to the Corvette, Hollywood Undead's Gangsta Sexy blasting loud from the open windows. A tall male with red hair to match the Ferrari rose from the vehicle after cutting the engine and music; intricate tribal tattoos ran over his eyebrows and up towards his hairline, where they coiled into two shaved triangles above his temples.

"Haven't missed the party have I?" he looked first to Ichigo and Rukia and then Shinji, guiding the door of the car back into its frame slowly behind him.

"Course not Renji" Ichigo answered him slowly, trying his best to sound sarcastic and bored "Ya ask that every time"

"Gangsta Sexy? Ya takin' the piss Ren?" Shinji looked at the redhead incredulously, taking the conversation back in time slightly.

"Nah, don't get yer panties in a twist Shin!" Renji locked the car before stowing the keys in his pocket. He scanned the lot thoughtfully, looking at each of the cars parked in two rows on the dusty surface "I see our lord and master ain't here yet"

"Nah, he'll make us wait here a while, bastard. He waits until the guys with the decent purple turn up, ya know how much he loves that stuff" Shinji spoke in a monotone, eyes wandering lazily around the lot as he did so. "Speakin' of which..."

Two more cars were rolling into the lot, the loud bass from their speakers just an indistinguishable pulse in the distance. A black Subaru Impreza pulled in beside the Ferrari, a brilliant white Masarati GranCabrio drawing up beside it at the same time. The only black on the Maserati was the tinted windows; even the rims and brake callipers were a pristine white.

"Hichi!" Ichigo started towards the tall, lean man rising from the white car before he even closed the door of the car.

"'sup King!" the man had brilliant white hair, stuck up in all directions in almost a mirror image of the orange hair styles in an unruly set of spikes on Ichigo's head. The white haired man had more curious features than his hair colour, his skin was almost a shade of white to match and a rare genetic condition had left what would be the whites of his eyes as a pitch black, honey yellow irises striking against the dark background. He pulled Ichigo into a one armed hug, pale fingers splaying out onto the back of the orange haired man's grey hoodie.

The other car was exited by a man who had his hair shaved close to his head and strange red markings tattooed under, and flicking away from, his eyes. Ikkaku looked over at Hichigo and Ichigo, rolling his eyes "Yer both a pair a' chicks ya know?" he slammed the door of the Impreza and locked it up before wandering off into the other row of cars opposite.

A loud trilling began from Shinji's pocket as the two pulled apart. The blonde took out his phone, tapping the large screen once before holding the device to his ear. Ichigo watched after him as he walked away to talk, the faint bulk of the 9mm tucked into the back of his pale jeans could be seen under his crisp white shirt. Ichigo drew his cinnamon eyes away from the blonde and looked back to Hichigo. The man was lighting a joint, strange eyes trained on the white roll up between his lips, well trained thumbs flicking the lighter to life in one try, shielding the flame from the breeze until it had caught. The strong, distinct smell of high grade marijuana hit Ichigo's nose, tempting him.

"Fuck Hichi, do ya have ta be a tease wit' that?" Ichigo looked to him, huffing air from his lungs in frustration.

"I guess yer gonna race tonigh' then" Hichigo gestured to the clean Corvette that Ichigo prized above everything else he owned.

"Definately, Zaraki asked for me here personally, I couldn't refuse. And I certainly can't get fucked up yet" Ichigo looked back at his car to try and distract himself from the tempting smell, music was still oozing from the speakers he had fitted. Rukia leaned casually against the bonnet, a joint perched between her lips and a drink in her hand. He stared at her for a moment; her petite frame was subtly complimented by the loose fitting dress. He turned back to Hichi to find the yellow irises trained on him.

The strange eyes of his friend always unnerved him; the attitude of the man also unnerved him, the steely composure which allowed him to reel off several shots without even noticing the kick back or the fresh blood was slightly scary. In fact the man possibly even enjoyed it; it was so hard to tell when his inane grin never left his features; although that could just be the effect of the ridiculous amounts of weed the guy smoked.

His staring was interrupted by the loud roar of an engine, unpolluted by pounding bass. A shiny black Pontiac Trans Am roared into the lot, skidding to a stop in between the two rows of cars that had formed. The dust it had kicked up settled down as the door opened, allowing a tall, bulky man to step out of the muscle car. His raven black hair was spiked up in long tips around his head; a small bell akin to those affixed to cat collars adorned the top of each spike. Pale scar tissue ran down the left side of his face, the skin long since healed, but slightly whiter than the rest. A square eye patch covered his other eye, the sides of it edged with a gold strip. His face was angular, long nose straight and jaw sharp. The man was built like a vehicle of war, a broad chest and long muscular legs made him look like a man you would not mess with.

All eyes were trained on the imposing man, he looked back out at them, a wide grin revealing sharp canines "Tha fuck y'all lookin at? Got a race to run ain't we?"

Large hands gripped the steering wheel tightly as a Lamborghini powered through the deserted streets. Basshunter's Russia Privjet rattled through the sound system, adding to the vibrations from the roaring engine, the rapid techno beat was not what the man's normal music taste consisted of, but he had taken to this song in particular. The sky blue paint of the Aventador caught and re-coloured the rapidly fading light of the setting sun; the orange orb was now half consumed by the horizon.

The muzzle of the 9mm Glock hooked under the waistband of his jeans dug uncomfortably into his hips. He growled low in his throat at the discomfort and shifted in his seat to try and ease it, keeping his foot heavy on the throttle as he moved. Vibrations from the engine shivered up his back and made his shoulders tingle; this was one of the reasons Grimmjow loved this car. At this moment he realised he had not smoked or drunk anything that evening, the adrenaline and excitement of what they were heading to do was enough of a high, he didn't need to get faded.

A glance through the small back window via the rear view mirror gave a quick image of the cars following him at the same reckless speed. An emerald green Sesto Elemento followed the closest behind him, the large, clear windscreen giving a view of its owner. The slight, yet immensely strong, man behind the wheel had irises to match his paint job and strange teal tattoos trailing from the middle of his bottom eyelid to his chin. Grimmjow still had no idea where the man had found the money for such a car, it made his Aventador look like a cheap hatchback. He supposed the stoic, raven haired man had a rich family, or he had carried out a pretty big hit. He was the boss' right hand after all.

Behind the Lamborghini was a pitch black Mustang, the silver horse on the grill just a point of brilliant reflection in the setting sunlight. Tinted windows and the car in front obscured the view of the driver, but Grimmjow knew the lanky man inside would be wearing that creepy grin of his; eyes alight with something other than the thrill of a drug, for once.

Grimmjow swung a sharp left, letting the back of the sports car kick out a bit on the way round. He glanced back to see the others do the same, the Sesto handling the corner much better than the sliding Mustang. The faint glow of lithium headlights could be seen in the distance ahead, they were nearly there. His body emptied more adrenaline into his blood; the hormone must have been the main component of the crimson liquid by now.

A tingling that wasn't the bass or the engine flowed down his arms, making him flex his fingers around the steering wheel and ease his back muscles into a stretch, slow and steady like a panther ready to pounce. He slammed his foot down into the throttle more, feeling the kick of the engine as the valves into it opened fully and it worked towards its full speed.

_So there's the first chapter, it's really kinda a pilot so let me know what you think of it, would be good to get your opinions on it ^^ so reviews please . _


	2. Chapter 2

Chapter Two

_Ok so here's chapter two, this fic is turning out more like Fast and Furious but what can I say, I love cars :D I enjoyed writing this chapter, I love dramatic scenes (it probably starts a bit slow but please bear with it ^^) _

"We gonna fuckin' race then?" Renji's obnoxious voice cut through the idle conversation and heavy bass floating through the now full parking lot. Their dark haired leader looked to the man, nodding his acceptance and slowly climbing into his dark Pontiac. Ichigo looked at Renji over the roof of his corvette, meeting the dark hazel eyes which clashed inoffensively with the red hair. "Ya up for it strawberry?" Renji grinned widely, dropping his spent cigarette to dusty floor and stepping the last of the light from it.

"Fuck off Renji, ya know I'll fuck ya over" Ichigo angled his body to face the other man better.

"Oh really? Pink slips say ya can't!" the redhead retrieved a slip of paper from his pocket, waving the title to his Ferrari to rile Ichigo.

"You're on! I always wanted a Ferrari ya know" Ichigo opened the driver's door of the corvette, seeing the rest of the lot's occupants moving towards their cars and doing the same. Engine noise filled the air as a stream of cars left the lot, all following the dark Trans Am out onto the adjoining road.

Once they were on to the stretch of road they frequently raced along all the cars split up, each driver knowing he drill and parking up to form a long, straight racetrack. All the car doors opened in a wave, the occupants moving to the back of their cars and leaning against them, waiting for the show to begin. Ikkaku tracked a red line of spray paint across the road to mark the start line, another man drawing out a similar line all the way at the other end of the track.

Ichigo pulled up to the start line, forced forward with the sharp pull of the brakes. He looked to his side to see Renji do the same. Beside the Ferrari he saw Kenpachi rising from the driver's door of the Trans Am, a strawberry blonde woman getting out of the passenger side, leaning her curvaceous hips against the metal to move the door closed behind her. Kenpachi looked to her quickly, nodding subtly to her. She returned the gesture before stepping out in front of the two cars lined up at the start line. Ichigo looked through his windscreen at her, avoiding the glances he wanted to give to the smug looking Renji, he knew it would just piss him off more. The stonewashed shorts she wore barely hugged the top of her thighs, the waistline riding high at her bellybutton. Skyscraper heels pushed her to stand almost on her toes, making her legs look surreally long. Rangiku Matsumoto's gray eyes bore through the Corvette's windscreen, the woman had those eyes that could see through a guy's front and the bullshit that went with it, just like Rukia. Ichigo shuddered and felt a hot rush move to his cheeks, as if he had been caught vulnerable.

He held Matsumoto's gaze for a while, fingers idling over the chrome gearstick. The muscles in the underside of his calf were tingling from holding the clutch down, the other foot softly feeding pressure onto the throttle in a rhythmic purr of the engine. He flicked the stereo into life, Tyga's Rack City slinking through the sub woofers in the back. Tapping his fingers against the steering wheel he waited for the start signal, his foot getting heavy on the throttle as Rangiku raised her arms above her head.

A cacophony of screeching tyres and roaring engines sounded as she brought her arms down and forward, too used to the situation to shrink back as the two cars sped past her. Ichigo watched as Renji took the early lead, the engine in the Ferrari slightly superior when it came to acceleration, however he soon caught up, forcing his way past the red car.

"How'd ya like catchin' the bus bitch!" Ichigo laughed to himself, the grin cutting up to his eyes as he stared at the Ferrari in his rear view mirror.

However his laugh got caught sideways in his throat as the scene behind him changed. Three sets of headlights joined the race, bright lithium beams that he didn't recognise. One of them caught up to him quicker than he liked to dwell on, the metallic blue paint still shining in the twilight.

"Shit!" he recognised the infamous Lamborghini, the car that lingered near sudden deaths and disappearances. Panicked he looked to either side of him, but any possible exits were blocked by rows of cars, panic on the faces of those standing by them. A lot of their occupants were scrambling to drive away as if the cops were on them. He looked into his rear view again, just in time to see the red Ferrari swerve into several of the cars parked up at the side; the metal bodies folded under the pressure, kicking the speeding vehicle into a spin, torn and warped pieces of shrapnel flying from the bodywork. "Shit!" Ichigo went to push his foot heavier on the gas, but realised the pedal was already kissing the floor. The blue Aventador swerved slightly to avoid the careening Ferrari which was slowing down as it flipped over. However, the blue car still managed to keep close to the corvettes bumper.

Ichigo was suddenly hit by the out of control speed of the corvette, it made him feel weightless, but in the back of his mind he knew the Lamborghini could go faster, much faster. This meant he was being played with, like a mouse running frantically for its life.

Suddenly he saw an opening in the parked cars; he had passed the finish line of their makeshift track and was now out onto the street. A sharp right turn branched into the narrow side streets and Ichigo decided to go for it.

Grimmjow let the grin crack across his face further, watching as the pitch black corvette flicked out into a skid round the corner, front wheels yanked round to pull it into a tight drift into the adjoining road. "This shit's finally gettin' good!" he moved to follow the Corvette, quickly catching up to it.

He eased off the throttle to match the speed of the corvette, getting the front as close to the bumper of the black car as he dared. The loud music had been shut off as he approached the track, he preferred to chase his prey in relative silence, the roar of the engine the only sound. Winding the side window down a fraction he eased the Glock from his waistband, aiming the muzzle out of the window and firing a shot into the wing of the Corvette. "I'm sure that piece a' shit can go faster Soul Reaper!" he watched the car swerve lightly, reeling another shot into the bodywork when it came back into his range again.

"Shit!" Ichigo looked back as the first shot slammed into the car, glancing to the chasing Aventador. A shock of blue caught his eye at the driver's window, hair the brightest sky blue was beaten by the wind as the man reeled another shot into the back of his car. "Bastard!" Ichigo forgot the scene for a second, getting pissed off at the blue haired moron who was wrecking his prized possession.

When he came back to the situation at hand he forced the throttle a little further to the floor, the engine now roaring in a worryingly high pitch. His thoughts were a mess, panic and the need for a way out of this upturning all logic. Another shot cut through the fog, closely followed by another, the rear window exploded in a shower of sharp crystals. He needed a way out, fast.

_Sorry for the cliffhanger! Adieu till next time! _


End file.
